The List
by The Sarcastic Typo
Summary: An organized list can help you expect things. However, not everything can be expected. NickHodges.


**Title: **The List  
**Summary: **An organized list can help you expect things. However, not everything can be expected.  
**Pairing:** Nick/Hodges  
**Rating: **PG  
**A/N: **Thanks to Kelly for beta'ing. You're an angel. And this is dedicated to a very spoiled Kate. Clearly I love you, darling. P

There were certain things in David Hodges' life which he expected to happen. Actually, he had a list - which no one would ever know about - of things he expected to happen to him by the age of thirty-five.

Number one: Move out of your mother's house.

Check. That one had been completed earlier than expected, actually. It wasn't that he didn't love his mother - she was a wonderful woman, really - he just didn't love his mother's taste in boyfriends. There had been Steve - Hodges had so precociously mentioned at the age of twelve that he'd met cinder blocks more capable of carrying on intelligent discussion - and then Rob - who had actually been kind of decent, aside from the whole 'married with kids in another state' thing he had going for him - and finally Ron.

Ron fell into a category all his own, Hodges thought. He was half sure the man snuck away at night to secretly take classes in 'redneck,' because every time Hodges spoke to him, he'd seemingly gotten dumber. As David Hodges had a habit - some of his obviously lesser evolved co-workers, who just didn't understand the art of a perfectly placed sarcastic barb, might call it a _bad_ habit - of saying just about anything and everything that came to mind, he decided at the tender age of seventeen to move out. He hadn't regretted it.

Number two: Get a job.

Also check. He liked his job, working for one of the best crime labs in the country. It was interesting work, and sure, he wasn't exactly favored by all of his co-workers, the ungrateful lot they were, but he was accepted among the other lab technicians: Bobby, Archie, and Jacqui. He was also fond of trading wisecracks with one Greg Sanders, which translated to "was good friends with" from Hodges speak to English. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone, of course. He did have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Number three: Find someone to spend your life with. Failing that, someone who won't kill you after spending half an hour alone with you.

Ah. That was where the catch was, where expected and unexpected crossed. He'd obviously known at the time of making this list that his certain "someone" being a woman wasn't exactly guaranteed or even all that likely. Truth be told, he'd never really had many feelings for _either_ of the sexes until he'd met_ him._

Nick Stokes.

Talk about unexpected.

That Nick was conventionally handsome was rather obvious, but he was more than just a pretty face, Hodges thought. He was always smiling, was a good man, and had a good heart. Mushy crap aside, he was also rather intelligent; intelligent in the respect that he could hold his own for awhile to trade quips with Hodges, but also intelligent in the respect that he knew when he was beaten. Hodges wasn't precisely sure which one was hotter.

Of course, he was also a straight-laced Texan boy and Hodges pretty much assumed that the man was straighter than an arrow and would probably go running away screaming in the opposite direction crying that another man had asked him out (okay, so perhaps Hodges was exaggerating just a bit, but really, it was okay to be just a _tiny_ bit bitter about all the good guys being straight, right?) if he actually _said_ anything to him, so Hodges was forced to admire him from afar. That didn't really sit well with Hodges. It was _such_ a cliche.

But, suddenly and out of nowhere, a situation appeared, as unexpected situations do, creeping up on unsuspecting men named David and springing themselves on them, shaking up their world and leaving their minds reeling with the whos, the whats, the hows, the whys, the wherefores, and all the possibilities.

He'd been sitting on a stool at the bar in one of the lesser known and less seedy gay bars - The Penguin, as it was so innocently called - simply having an after-work drink before heading home when _he'd_ walked in, the irritatingly lovely man who refused to exit his thoughts: Nick Stokes, himself.

Hodges spotted Nick before he'd seen him and froze a bit, contemplating if diving behind the bar was too dramatic a response to this situation. But then Nick's eyes roamed the establishment and landed on him.

And because God or whomever was sitting up in the clouds pulling the strings had decided making David Hodges squirm was quite a grand old past time, Nick Stokes headed over to where David was sitting.

Why hadn't he made a list for situations like _this_?

"Hey, Hodges," Nick said warmly, sitting down on the booth next to him. "Surprised to see you here."

"Never really suspected you'd be one to frequent gay bars either, Stokes. I guess we're both learning new things."

Nick chuckled. "You never turn it off, do you? Your sarcasm."

"I can't; the switch is broken. I tried to return it, but the warranty had run out."

Nick shook his head. "You're really something."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Stokes."

"Why don't you call me 'Nick'?"

"_Nick_?" Hodges repeated, as though the name was in a foreign language.

"I've heard it's my name."

"Clever. I hadn't realized we were on a first name basis? Is this the first bar you've _been_ to? How many drinks have you _had_?"

"I'm not drunk." Nick rolled his eyes. "I just don't see why we're so formal all the time, especially now, when neither of us are working."

Hodges nodded. "I suppose I see your point... Nick. Call me David."

At this point in time, Hodges wasn't completely sure what, exactly, was going on or what he was doing. Although this could quite possibly come as a large shock, Hodges had never been very good in social situations or at small talk or with talking to handsome, intelligent men in bars named Nick Stokes, and especially not with an actual handsome, intelligent man really wanting his company and actually wanting to speak to him in return. He was doing the best he could on limited experience and knowledge and did not feel he could be blamed for any gaffes, faux pas, or any other socially inept thing he might say or do.

"What was that? A civil, non-sarcastic comment from David Hodges? I think I might die of shock."

Hodges rolled his eyes. "Please don't."

"Aw, David, I didn't know you cared."

"Actually, I'd just rather not have to explain to everyone why beloved CSI Nick Stokes dropped dead while in my presence, as they certainly wouldn't believe me if I told them the truth. I'd have every one of your compatriots after my blood."

"You'd be done for." Nick laughed.

"I'm glad the thought of my imminent demise is a source of amusement for you."

Nick shook his head and leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Secretly, I don't think they'd go after you. Where else would they get their nightly dose of sarcasm?"

"Or their nightly bit of frustration, anguish, and homicidal rage? Oh, and they'd have no one to groan at and about. You're quite right. They'd never live without me."

Nick blinked, and Hodges was _well_ aware of the fact that the man was still leaning in close to him. He mentally cursed every deity he could think of. In several languages. Three of which were dead. Someone upstairs was laughing his ass off at him.

"Man, is that all you think you're worth to us? 'Cause that sucks."

Hodges shrugged. "I'm well aware of the fact that your team doesn't like me much. It's hardly something I'm heartbroken about."

"That's not true. Greg likes you."

Hodges snorted. "Sanders has never been known for his exceptional taste."

"What about me? I like you."

Now it was Hodges turn to blink. He hadn't - he couldn't - had Nick Stokes really just _said_ that? And _meant_ it? "You don't even _know_ me."

"I know that you're funny, not bad company, and a good guy. Isn't that enough?" Nick paused. "Besides, you never start off relationships knowing everything about the other person. That's why you get to know them."

And there it was, The Unexpected in all its glory, smacking him upside the head with all the subtlety of a car slamming into a brick wall. Nick had been _flirting_ with him, he _liked_ him - it was too surreal. Hodges was sure he looked like a goldfish out of water for a minute or two, but at the moment, he didn't really care. He was more concerned about the fact that he was apparently dreaming or delirious.

"I - uh, _excuse_ _me_?"

Nick looked far too smug.

It was damnably attractive, too.

"I think you heard me."

"Not drunk, my ass," Hodges muttered.

"Want to test me? I haven't even had one whole drink." Nick paused. "You... intrigue me, you know. You're interesting. I want to get to know you better. I want to..."

"Have a _relationship_ with me?"

Nick smiled. "Yeah."

"I think I'm dreaming." He froze suddenly and looked up. Nick was smirking at him again, meaning he'd definitely said that last bit out loud. Ah, shit.

"Have I really managed to leave the infamous David Hodges speechless? Man, if I'd have known this was all it took, I'd have come on to you in a gay bar ages ago."

Hodges narrowed his eyes. "You are far too smug about this."

"I think I deserve to be." Nick was _teasing_ him, for Christ's sake. "How about I pick you up tomorrow? It's our night off. We can go out to dinner."

"I - uh. Well, sure." Hodges, for once in his life, really didn't have a witty comeback or sarcastic retort as he mumbled out directions to his address. When Nick pecked him on the lips before leaving, though, he found that he _really_ didn't care.

Number four: Unexpected things happen. They're good. Go with them.

So completely _check_.

-End


End file.
